


Pillow Talk

by Nina36



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff I guess, M/M, Set during season six, Wincest - Freeform, found this in a folder in my pc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8846818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nina36/pseuds/Nina36
Summary: After everything, after having been bloody mold in Lucifer’s hands, after hallucinations…he still has nightmares, normal ones and they still had the power to scare the crap out of him.





	

It’s like drowning. Sam takes long deep breaths, his fingers clutching on the thin sheets, beads of perspiration trailing down his jaw, his eyes darting in the half darkness of their motel room. He wills his heart to slow down its frantic beating, making it possible for him to hear. 

Dean is asleep, thankfully. Maybe he passed out…or maybe he really fell asleep for once, the fatigue of their last hunt taking its toll on him. 

 _Idiot, get a fucking grip!_  He scolds himself, trying to shake away the images of his nightmare. 

After everything, after having been bloody mold in Lucifer’s hands, after hallucinations…he still has nightmares, normal ones and they still have the power to scare the crap out of him. 

“Sammy…” Dean murmurs, his voice muffled against the pillow, “what’s up?”

Sam doesn’t answer…because seriously, what can he tell Dean? “Sorry I woke you up by being a wuss?” or “I just had a nightmare and I wish I was 10 again so that I could crawl into your bed and use you as my teddy bear?”

Yeah… _no…_ his soul might be swiss cheese, but he still has some dignity left!

A scoff from Dean, the noise of the bedsprings creaking and then Dean’s voice, now very much awake - so much for being subtle - asks, “Sammy?” 

Part of him is annoyed, because although he needs his brother like air sometimes — most of the times, actually - he also needs to feel like he isn’t a complete mess or a little kid…the rest of him is worried, ashamed and grateful.

Damn, his life sucks!

“I know you’re awake, don’t make me get up!” Dean says. 

Sam sighs, his throat suddenly dry.  ”It’s nothing, man…” he eventually says.

“Huh, sure you are…” Dean says. 

A pause, then Dean adds in a low voice, “Was it…hell?”

Sam shakes his head. No…it wasn’t hell, nightmares about hell are odd, scary, leaving trails of dread on his skin and in his gut. The bitch of it is that he cannot wake up from them, usually.

It was just a nightmare, a run of the mill nightmare, a replaying of their last hunt in glorious technicoDolby surround and 3D. 

If he tells Dean, however, he will never  live it down, Dean will probably laugh well until morning. 

“Really Dean…” Sam trails, he grits his teeth for a moment, before adding, “and it wasn’t about hell. Honest.”

Dean snorts at his words. The silence stretches all around them,  it is not awkward, but strange…filled with something Sam can’t exactly decipher. Lights filters from the window: passing cars, the green and red of the motel sign, he can hear the water of the faucet dripping, and Dean’s breath. He is still awake, looking at him, it is a comforting presence, the rustling of sheets is familiar. He feels like he can properly breathe – or, he is starting to, at least.

He turns his head, allowing himself to look, really look at his brother, and can’t help a little smile when he catches him looking at him, a little frown marring his brow. 

“I swear…” He says.

Dean nods. “You know?” He says after a second, “I still dream about my first hunt sometimes…” 

Sam quirks his eyebrows, he hadn’t expected that. 

“Really?” He asks. 

“Yeah…it was just a salt and burn, but man, I was so green…” Dean says…and Sam hears what he isn’t adding.

Dean probably dreamt of all the things that might have gone wrong. Much like he has done that night. Because things can go wrong – and that’s the scariest thing for him: not the monsters they gank, not the shit they see, but what could go wrong: moving too late, too slowly, not getting there in time to save Dean. Yeah, those are the stuff of his nightmares. His real nightmares.

Dean yawns and Sam can’t help doing the same, it’s a weird, almost pavlovian reaction, but something inside himself has loosened, his blood is now just flowing in his veins and it doesn’t feel like acid, and he notices the soft breeze coming from the A/C. 

“I was thinking…” Dean says and Sam, with his eyes, still closed smirks, “Bad idea, Dean…”

He chuckles when Dean says under his breath, “bitch, bitch, bitch…”

Once, he’d have replied with a “jerk, jerk, jerk…” before, before deals and blood and death, before their world had spun on its axis for so long that they are just now learning how to breathe again in it, how to live, how to be together without lies and demon blood, prophecies and deals.

“Dude, we’re pillow talking,” Dean says, “might as well do it on one bed…”

 _Wait…what?_ Sam thinks, while his body is already moving, making space for Dean who is padding toward his bed.

“Fair warning,” Dean says, throwing his pillow at him, “no snuggling or I’ll end you!”

Sam rolls his eyes, he knows damn well that Dean will end up placing a possessive hand on his chest, his forehead will end up against his shoulder and he will drool on him. It’s happened before. It’s happening again.

Sam is okay with it. No, more than that: he needs it. 

“So…” Dean says after he makes himself comfortable, “clowns or midgets?”

Sam elbows him on the side but says, “just some random shit dude…”

A quick peck on the lips, familiar and welcome, and then Dean says in a sleepy voice, “happens…now go the fuck to sleep…”

Sam chuckles, in the half darkness of the room, and breathes in his brother’s smell, lets the sound of his breath lull him to sleep. 

In the morning his predictions will come true: he’ll wake up with Dean draped all over him, his touch keeping the nightmares away, grounding him, carrying him for another day.


End file.
